A Guy Has To Sleep Somewhere
by AVAAntares
Summary: Javic Thane is brash and cocky and annoying, and Jack Harkness is the only man alive who can understand why. (A supplementary scene for the Big Finish audio episode The Lives of Captain Jack: Month 25.)


Author's Note:

This scene slots into the Big Finish audio story "Month 25" from _The Lives of Captain Jack_. It is not strictly necessary to listen to that story to read this one; all you need to know is that Jack has gone back to join forces with his younger self, who is still working for the Time Agency, and ends up spending the night in his apartment. This story picks up during that night, after… well, after the obvious result of putting two Jacks in a bedroom together. (Yes, it is now canon that Jack sleeps with himself. Is anyone surprised?)

* * *

Javic fell back against the pillows, panting. "Wow," he laughed, giving Jack a look of approval. "I am _good_."

Jack decided to take that as a compliment and settled down on the side of the bed usually reserved for his—Javic's—overnight guests. "Youth and vigor, meet age and experience."

"Don't discount the natural talent." Javic tossed him a salacious wink, then frowned. "Although… You really don't remember _any_ of this happening?" Jack shook his head, and a crease appeared between Javic's dark brows. "I hate to think I could forget an experience like the one we just had. You'd think being with me would be more… well, memorable."

"Memory is a fragile thing." Jack pressed a finger over the line on Javic's forehead. "And stop frowning like that. You'll get wrinkles."

"Your problem, not mine." Javic brushed his hand away, then eyed Jack's face curiously. "How long is it until I'm you, though? I mean, how much older than me are you?"

"You know I can't tell you that."

"Rough estimate?" Javic pressed. "Ten years, or twenty? Which is closer?"

"Closer to twenty than ten." Jack turned away to adjust a pillow behind his back, hiding his face in case his expression gave anything away. He'd given a mathematically correct answer, but he briefly wondered how his younger self would take it if he revealed that he was more like twenty _centuries_ older.

"That makes you, what, fifty? Fifty-five?" Javic was scowling. "I don't want to get old," he sulked.

"Oh, you think fifty is old?" Jack chuckled at the irony. "Don't worry, no one's going to mistake either one of us for a pensioner any time soon."

"I guess that's true. And at least I'm still hot at your age, whatever that is." He trailed his fingers down Jack's bare chest, and then laughed. Well, more like _giggled_. It was an odd sound to Jack's ears, and not one he remembered himself making. "It _was_ sort of weird, though, wasn't it?" Javic laughed. "I mean, it was really good, but just the idea of you and me… or is it me and me? What do you even call the two of us?" He flashed that white grin again. "Besides entirely too much sex appeal in one bed."

Jack fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew he'd been a cocky little bastard when he was younger, but somehow he hadn't imagined that he could ever have been this _annoying_. A flash of memory came to him: Sweating in a radiation-flooded room, the Doctor watching from the other side of a blast door, Jack casually speculating about finding another version of himself in the distant future. _It's the only man you're ever gonna be happy with_ , the Doctor had teased him.

But Jack wasn't happy—not even with himself, and certainly not with _this_ version of him. Javic Thane was arrogant, foolhardy, cocksure—Jack glanced down at his younger self's body, still on full display, and decided _that_ metaphor was perhaps a bit too apt—and flaunted every personality flaw that Jack had tried to tame over his two-millennia-plus of life. Javic was so wrapped up in himself, in being the center of attention, in being admired, it was a wonder he'd ever made any meaningful emotional connections at all.

With a start, Jack realized that if he'd met a man like Javic under normal social circumstances, he would be less inclined to bend him over a mattress, and more likely to bend him over his knee and whack some respect and consideration for others into him—assuming he didn't just shoot him outright for being so damned _irritating_. Not for the first time, Jack thought back to all those who had loved him, and felt a wave of gratitude for the profound tolerance and forgiveness they had extended to him. It was nothing short of miraculous that he'd managed to find anyone, let alone several people, with the exceptional patience necessary to endure his idiocy. Ianto had put up with his nonsense daily for more than three years, and the worst Jack had gotten was an eyeroll—and yet after spending just two days with Javic, Jack was already struggling not to throttle him.

But then, Jack reflected, Ianto Jones had been exceptional in more ways than one.

His fond reminiscing was cut short by Javic's hands, which were beginning to stray again. Jack caught his wrists when he realized where they were headed. "Look, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but getting you—us—off is not actually the job I came here to do."

Javic huffed and reluctantly pulled away. "Right. My stolen memories."

"Your memories aren't the priority. I'm talking about stopping the Council."

"But they took two years of my life!" Javic protested. " _And_ they garnished my wages for that whole time, which is—"

Jack groaned loudly. "Seriously, is money all you think about?"

"I've lost the equivalent of three months' salary, and this luxury apartment doesn't come cheap, so _yes_ , I'm thinking about it! And more importantly, I want my memories back!"

"Knowing what I do about the Council's clandestine activities and the part you played in them, you probably don't," snapped Jack. "And I realize it's a difficult concept for you, but sometimes in life there are things that are more important than getting what you want. In this case, that's saving the universe from a bunch of megalomaniac would-be despots."

Javic slouched against the pillows and sulked, and Jack was reminded of a petulant teenager. "Fine. How are we going to get the beacon to the 113th floor?"

"I have a plan." Jack retrieved his discarded trousers and fished the Shimmer generator out of the pocket. He checked the charge—still good—and set the device on the nightstand. "But I'll need you to stay here, out of sight. Once they realize you've learned the truth, they'll send the Enforcers after you."

Javic looked thoughtful. "You mean they'll send them after _us_. Our biometrics aren't that different, even with the age gap. They could track us both."

"Why do you think I've been using the Shimmer?" Jack climbed back into bed. "It's vital that no one learns I'm here. If they realize there are two of us, my plan won't work."

Javic frowned. "So you want me to just sit at home and be the decoy?"

"I know it's less glamorous than the action you're used to, but as long as they're monitoring you here, they won't have any reason to look for someone clipping into their bubble universe from the back. Besides, I need you safe, not getting yourself killed by charging in and doing something stupid."

That sentiment was met with a scowl. "Gee, for a moment there it almost seemed like you cared."

"Believe me, it's motivated entirely by my sense of self-preservation," Jack snapped. "If it wouldn't negatively affect my own chances of survival, I'd let you take the risk _and_ the glory. But since my very existence is predicated on your getting through this adventure unharmed, I'm going to have to insist, for our own wellbeing, that you stay out of the way." He gestured around the well-appointed bedroom. "Look, you've got this great luxury apartment, and you spend almost no time here. Consider it a chance to enjoy the things you're paying through the nose for. Like a holiday."

"Believe me, my idea of a holiday isn't staying home _alone_."

"I know very well what your idea of a holiday is. I haven't forgotten that week on Cotarakio Seven." Jack shook his head. "Neither has the Cotarak constabulary, I suspect."

Javic snorted. "Prissy killjoys."

"My point is, you tend to get into trouble," Jack said firmly. "You're staying here, and that's final."

Javic uttered a syllable of disgust and turned away, flopping down on the mattress and yanking all the bedclothes over himself. "We'll discuss this in the morning," he growled. "I'm tired."

"That's because you drank too much," Jack reprimanded him, then sighed as a few ancient memories surfaced through the centuries' worth of experience he carried with him. "I always did," he added quietly, his anger beginning to evaporate.

Within moments Javic was snoring softly, and Jack let his eyes wander again around the ultra-modern room. Though it boasted the latest technology and the trendiest furnishings, every luxury his considerable Time Agency salary could buy, it was as impersonal as a hotel. Jack missed the character of his compact Torchwood bunker, the photos in his tin box, the artifacts and the general air of nostalgia with which he'd surrounded himself over the decades.

Javic had no mementos, because there had been nothing pleasant in his life he wanted to remember.

Jack's gaze slid sympathetically over his younger self's slender body, curled almost childlike beneath the tangle of blankets. Sitting here, in his old apartment, he recalled a shadow of the deep-rooted insecurity that had fueled his aggressive attitude, as well as the buried guilt—over his brother, his father, his best friend, and a hundred other losses—that drove him to drink more than he ought to, to try to forget the past and live for the pleasures of the present. To frighten the world away with his bold, cocky persona so it wouldn't come close enough to hurt him again.

Jack might not be completely happy with himself in the present, but he knew Javic wasn't happy _at all_. Not really. Not in any way that mattered.

Impulsively, Jack reached over and stroked a compassionate hand over Javic's hair. Javic mumbled something unintelligible and curled into a tighter ball, and Jack chuckled to himself. "So I do talk in my sleep. I always thought Ianto was having me on." Javic let out a sound like a stifled whimper, and Jack sighed. "Yeah. Me too, kid."

Javic had claimed all the covers, so Jack retrieved a spare blanket from the closet before settling down beside his younger self in the oversized bed. He caught himself looking around for a light switch before he remembered and whispered, "Computer: Night mode." The room dipped into darkness, but Jack continued watching himself sleep for a few more minutes, silhouetted against the faint ambiance of a window.

Javic made another pathetic sound and coiled tighter beneath the blanket, and Jack recognized the early stages of a nightmare. _Those_ memories hadn't left him; he could well guess what Javic was seeing in his dreams. Jack shifted closer and put an arm about the younger man's shoulders. "It's okay," he whispered against Javic's scalp. "You're safe here. They aren't coming for you. You're safe. And…" He hesitated, stumbling over the truth it had taken him centuries to accept. "It's not your fault. It wasn't your fault."

Javic's trembling ceased, but Jack continued holding him tightly, remembering how many nights he'd spent alone, wishing for someone to just _care_. When Javic's breathing had fallen back into the slow rhythm of deep sleep, Jack resumed whispering. "I'm sorry I was so hard on you, even though I think maybe you need more of that in your life. But don't worry—you'll grow up soon enough." He sighed, closing his eyes. "And it'll be hard, and sometimes you'll wish you hadn't. But you'll meet so many amazing people, and save the universe so many times, and learn to love so deeply it hurts—and one day, you'll be here, looking back on where you are now, and you won't really know how you got from there to here." Javic shifted and mumbled in his sleep again, and Jack smiled. "Yeah, maybe you're wondering the same thing from your end. But trust me—it'll be worth it."

At last he tucked himself around Javic's warmth and let his own thoughts drift to more recent memories, joyful and sad and beautiful and bittersweet, calming his mind as he willed himself to sleep. Time travel could be draining, and he needed to be well-rested for the morning.

After all, he had a universe to save.


End file.
